Journal of a Living Lady #97

 

Nancy White Kelly

 

The holidays were nice. I got a reprieve from chemotherapy, radiation and didn’t have to check in with the doctor even once. But, alas, it is back to the real world. I had more chemo today. As usual the doctor’s office was packed. Some of us were tucked into small rooms to receive our drips. Others were pricked for blood. Appointments were scheduled for next week or next month.

 

The cancer-war saga continues with new recruits daily. Four of my friends joined the battle in the last month. Lung cancer. Colon cancer. Breast cancer. Bladder cancer.

 

We veterans think of cancer in colors. Green light…the cancer is active. Red light…the cancer is cured or at least in remission. Yellow light…somewhere in between.

 

Yellow. That’s my color right now. First it was green. Then red light for 12 years. Then green for two and now yellow.

 

I have never been a fan of the color yellow. It looks yucky on me. I used to have such rosy cheeks that my own mother accused me wearing rouge. Now my hemoglobin stays so low I take shots and drink red Kool-Aid.

 

Aging and cancer have taken their toll on me for sure. My mind doesn’t only wander, it completely leaves me sometimes. Guess creeping senility is one reason why God doesn’t allow most women over 50 to have babies. They would put them down somewhere and forget where they put them.

 

 

My doctor tells me  to stay in touch with my body. Frankly mine isn’t all that communicative. I did hear from it on one of my good days lately when I said, “Body, how about us trying some good old-fashioned exercise.” Clear as a bell my yellow body called out, “Crazy woman. Get over it!”

 

 

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January 17, 2001